Never Choose Flight (A Fighter Romance Novel) by Danielle Forte

Author:Danielle Forte [Forte, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-05-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

I sped all the way home. I only had an hour from the time I was off work until I was getting picked up. I had no idea what I was getting picked up in, but I knew that it was happening soon and that I had a lot of getting ready to do.

I got home and hopped in the shower for a quick rinse, trying not to get my hair wet. I put on a pair of panties and a bra that matched. Black with a bit of lace around the edges. I looked in the mirror and felt how he’d described me. Womanly.

I never wore dresses, but I did own a few. So I pulled one on - a dark blue on that went halfway down my thigh. It looked good enough, and somehow I only had twenty minutes left to get ready so I went with it.

It felt very freeing to wear a dress. I always felt too ugly for them. You never see women like me wearing sexy dresses. Never in magazines or on TV or anything. If you see a woman like me at all, she’s always in jeans, and often being made fun of. But I felt good. I felt free. And I felt sexy.

The makeup was simple. I wasn’t very good with makeup, so it kind of had to be. I pulled out a box of makeup that I’d almost never used. I had my regular stuff that I used every day, and then I had this stuff. The fancy stuff. Christmas and birthday gifts from over the years.

It was mainly things that I thought were too bright for me. Things that would draw too much attention. Things I never thought I would wear.

But I pulled out a tube of red lipstick and applied it, puckering at myself in the mirror. And damn if I didn’t look sexy in it. I powdered my cheeks lightly, and then applied the smallest amount of blush with a red that complimented my lips.

I applied a thin line of eyeliner, and then went with some mascara and an eyelash curler. Then just the tiniest amount of blue eye shadow. It worked together well with my dress.

I stood back and looked at myself. Looked myself up and down, like I was a guy checking me out. And I liked what I saw. I really, truly did. And that sensation was still so new to me.

I loved it.

Then I put on my only pair of black high heels, and threw on a black cardigan. One more glance at myself in the mirror, and then there was a knock at my door. I waited a minute. I didn’t want to seem too eager, for some reason. Didn’t want him to think I’d been doing nothing but wait for him ever since I got home. I mean, that was basically the truth but it wasn’t the right kind of romantic for the moment.

I opened the door, and there he was. He wore a simple, well-fitted black suit with a blue shirt underneath.

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